Naimda, Namida
by SpunPinkSugarGlaze
Summary: You seriously could not take it anymore. The bullying, the spitting of vemon in the people's words when they address you, and that was ONLY if they had too. And don't forget the dark, choking oblivion called loneliness. You knew very well you weren't perfect- far from it. And so when you decide to end it all, a certain blonde just HAS to stop you. Gakuen Hetalia, Reader x England.


**EVERYONE, DO NOT PANIC! I AM NOT DEAD! My poll does not have enough votes, so I am unable to move on. AKA, IT IS ON HIATUS!**

**I get sad from reading too many Romano fics, and this is what happens...I seriously think that Lovino is the saddest Hetalia character. Anyway, on with it!**

**I DO NOT OWN HETALIA IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!**

**If I did.../nosebleed**

* * *

You couldn't take it anymore.

Every day you went to school, people shouted insults at you, sneered at you, and sometimes even hit you and kicked you when they got the chance. Bandages on your face were normal now- they didn't bother you in the slightest, since you needed new ones every single day. You didn't want any friends, since all the past "friends" you had always betrayed you and turned on you. After around three times of this happening, you had completely given up on having any friendly relationships with anyone whatsoever.

And it was lonely.

So, so, lonely. It was an endless oblivion, so dark and choking and it's like it eats every bit of sanity you have left from your stomach to your throat, suffocating you until it was hard to breathe. It was a hungry little virus, devouring away who you were and leaving behind an empty, hollow shell of who you once were.

You hated it to the core.

And so, today, as you fixed the straps on your uniform, and tied the bright red bow, you thought about how you could escape it all. You thought about transferring, completely changing who you were, painting a new picture and throwing away the old canvas and splashing the new one with bright, happy colors. Colors of joy, trust, and love. But that was a coward's way of doing so you couldn't. You were too proud, but then again, did you even have any shred pride left in this body after what you had been through?

You thought that you would think about this later- you had school to go to. Grabbing your brown leather school bag, you ran out the door, hunger gnawing at your stomach. You didn't have time for breakfast right now- there was school to gone to. As time passed, you thought about something that many people would call crazy or insane. You knew how to get away from it all. It was simple, actually, and it did everyone a favor. Getting rid of yourself from the world was an act that was like a blessing, a weight lifted from the school's shoulders as they are relieved of your presence.

Forever.

You decided during Social Studies class that it would be done after school that day.

During Language Arts, you wrote a goodbye letter to the school. Not like they would read it anyways. As the sun began to spread it's glorious colors in the skies, you decided that now would be a good time.

You climbed up 4 flights of stairs and onto the roof of the school building, taking care to tape the note you wrote onto the protective gate around the roof. Taking a final glance around the breathtaking view, you climbed over the steel gate and onto the edge of the roof. You could see the crowd of students below notice your presence, one by one- their accusing fingers pointing up at you, the frantic shouts. Smiling to yourself, you thought this quite amusing.

Oh. So now they care, when I'm granting their final wish. How funny.

Taking a deep breath, you bent your legs for the jump, when someone behind you shouted very loudly,

"NO! STOP!"

You froze, and turned around to see who the hell was stopping you from achieving your lifelong (well, at least a few hours long) dream of death. You stared back at them with empty (e/c) eyes, that had long since lost their glow.

Before you, panting really hard like they had run- no, sprinted, up 4 flights of stairs (which they had) was a young boy with white blonde hair and sparkly green emerald eyes. His cheeks were flushed a dark pink from exhaustion.

"No. Stop. This isn't the answer to your problems- suicide never is."

Your lips barely moved as you uttered these words back to him.

"Answer? There isn't any other answer. I should die," you said quietly, the cutting edge of your voice making the boy flinch slightly. It sounded so weak, too desperate, so given up.

"No, it's not," he insisted. "I can help you solve your problems."

You laughed bitterly, your throat sore and voice hoarse from not speaking in such a long time.

"Oh, so it's right before I do this you all ask for forgiveness? Oh, bitch please. Can't I just have this? I'm doing you all a favor anyways," you chuckled.

He reached a kind out for you, a gesture so rare and unseen you were momentarily shocked by it, the depressing expression on your face wavering slightly.

"Please. I can help you. Just listen to me for once!" he demanded, voice growing desperate.

You seriously considered going with this boy- and then shook your head.

"I don't need saving."

"But you're going to die! You can't just throw away your life like this!" He shrieked.

"I died a long time ago, buddy. I think you should at least know that." you said bluntly.

He took several strides toward you, and grabbed your hand through the fence.

"Love, you're coming with me whether you like it or not. I am not about to let a lady take her own life right in front my eyes," he said sternly.

Oh, just great.

You sighed in defeat, and climbed over the fence reluctantly.

"What the hell is your problem?" you asked harshly, shooting the blonde a glare.

"My problem is you." he said plainly.

You shut your mouth, and quietly followed him downstairs. You could hear all the murders, and you tried to not look at all the disappointed looks.

"Why doesn't she just die already?"

"The world doesn't need her. She's wasted space."

"I bet you she's so cowardly she was afraid to die."

The stares of the crowd burned onto you- ignoring them, you walked a bit faster, dragging the stranger with you. You didn't wanna stay in this place any longer than you had to.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"The question is, when are you going?" You demanded, and spun around to face him.

The pair of you were quite a distance from the school right now, and the sun was setting. Couples would find this setting romantic- but you didn't have the heart to get into a relationship after all the failed friendly ones.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?"

"I live alone. I don't need you joining me," you said, trying to shoo him away.

"Oh. Where are your parents? If I were them, I would be worried sick."

"They died when I was 11. I already said I live alone- I don't need your pity or comfort." You said bitterly.

In truth, you wanted someone to be with, but were scared. Scared that they would get close, and stab you in the back. It's not like it's impossible- your childhood friends had turned on you, the ones whom you trusted with your secrets and they used them against you in the worst possible ways. You wanted a shoulder to cry on- someone to rely on and not have to worry about them leaving you at all. Is that really so much to ask for?

The boy you met was looking at you, deep in thought and trying to read your expression.

"Oh, I know! You could move in with me!"

"Ahaha, not happening."

"But you live alone!"

"No shit, Sherlock. I'm not moving in with you. Hell, I don't even know your name."

There was a silence, and you thought that you had finally made him give up. You smiled smugly to yourself.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am not the kind of person to leave a lady all alone-"

Well, that wasn't expected. You snorted and crossed your arms.

"-and you are no exception. Love, you are moving in with me, willing or unwilling."

"Oh? I'm. Not. Coming. You can go burn in Hell, for all I care! Just leave me alone!" you demanded, turning so your back faced him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes- no one had ever been so kind to you in so long. It felt nice...but you didn't want to infect those amazing, generous people with your filthy self. They would just push you away, like everyone else when they realized the cost of being near someone so dirty and ugly as you.

You stiffened when you felt two warm arms wrap around you. You tried to pry them off, but his grip was strong. His hands were oddly soft for such a strong grip.

"I'm not gonna leave you alone. C'mon- let's go home." he said gently, but there was a firm edge of authority in it.

Home? I have none, you baka.


End file.
